Never Let Him Go
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: RoseTeddy. He leaves to go fight in a war and never comes back. But there's an issue - she's pregnant. For the I Dare You challenge on NGF.


_For the 'I dare you' challenge on NGF_

_Pairing: RoseTeddy_

_Prompts: doll, rocker_

* * *

She looks down at the baby in her arms, the porcelain doll that is the product of the last night she has _truly_ been happy, as they sit together in the rocker chair in the baby's room.

She hasn't named him yet; how can she, when the Father isn't here? not here to give his input as to what he wants his son to be called; not here to see what he helped to make.

Not here to tell her he loves her.

Her family are here, of course they are, and they fill every spare metre squared in her house – being born a Weasley, that part is sort of obvious. From her parents to _his_ Grandmother (the one she classes as her third one), everyone is here to congratulate her on the baby boy in her arms, carefully avoiding _his_ name

Because he's never coming back – not through choice, but rather, death.

That's right. Teddy Lupin is dead.

Her lank reddish-brown hair hangs limply from her head, curtains hiding the pain on her face from the sight of everyone but her baby. She tries to think of _anything_ but him, anything but those last few days with him – pure bliss, happiness, perfection.

But she fails.

~x~

It's a night nine months previous and it's so utterly _perfect_.

They go out for a romantic meal to her favourite Italian restaurant (he doesn't really like Italian) and they order a pizza to share, much to the disapproval of the owners. But they don't care because it's just so _big_, it's a waste to buy two and end up leaving a pizza.

She knows he has to tell her something – something big – but as soon as his expression turns serious, she lays her hand over his and looks him in the eyes. "No, not tonight," she says in the tone she inherited from her Mother. The clanging of her wedding ring against his reminds him that he has so much to be happy about, that this one thing can't break that happiness but perhaps it would be best to leave it alone for now.

"Ok," he finally agrees, his eyes open and eerily blue. "But tomorrow, we have to."

After all, it's their wedding anniversary tonight so why does he have to ruin it with _that_ news?

They go home and open a bottle of wine – red, since it's his favourite – and just sit with each other, an unspoken knowledge that they won't be able to do this for much longer. His hand runs through her hair and she turns to press her lips to his, a shiver of excitement running through her veins as they set their glasses aside.

He lifts her into his arms and they end up staggering through to their room, discarding clothing as she's with him and it's so perfect and she can't believe that this is going to be over so soon…but she loses herself in the moment and it's just _amazing_.

.

The next morning, he's made her breakfast in bed and she knows what's coming. She's always known that he'll leave her, if she's honest – after all, with his job, how can he not?

Just it's not the way she thought.

"Honey, you know the situation in Istanbul is worse than they originally thought?" he begins slowly, his hand on hers. He doesn't wait for her to answer – with her work in the International Magical Co-operation branch; she's probably more informed than he is. "Well, they said that there's danger, so they need the flying force to go in…and, since I put my name down, I've been called to go forth."

She didn't know about that part – but she does now.

"You mean…you mean like in the World Wars for the Muggles, when they sent in the planes to get people out?" she uses the analogy of the history she learnt as a child – after all, whilst they're wizards, they're still able to succumb to human flaws.

"Um, yeah I guess so," he looks a little unsure about this but nods anyway, his expression grimmer than before. "I'm going to have to get right into the thick of it to get the kids out – I can't leave them there, Rose, I can't."

"I know you can't, honey," she whispers reassuringly, afraid if she talks louder she'll betray how much she wants him to stay and be safe rather than fight. "It's one of the many things I love about you, not letting others be in danger if you can help," she continues, stroking his hair softly.

"The thing is…I leave tonight," his words shock her to the core – how can it be so soon? Have the Ministry been ready to send people in for the entire time, since they can't have gotten everything together in the three days since the bombs began to go off?

"Oh," is all she can manage, one syllable that betrays every emotion she's tried to hide. But she forces herself to swing away from him (when she wants to clutch him close and never let go) in order to have a minute to hide her emotions – another thing from her Mother. "Well…I know you do. I just never expected it would be this soon."

"They've been planning it for months, apparently," he explains, standing up and moving around their bed to be in front of her again. His hair changes to be black and serious, the exact opposite it has been for the entire twenty four months they've been married and her entire life that she's known him.

"Oh," she repeats, less surprised than before – when wouldn't the Ministry be prepared to attack? "It's just it's so much _faster_ than I…never mind. Have you told everyone else?" she changes the subject, fearful that if she continues to wish for him to stay, he'll end up being further away from her than before.

"No, I wanted to tell you first," he responds, taking her hand and playing with it. "I thought we could go now, when you're ready?" he suggests, tears forming in his eyes.

And she realises she's crying as well.

"Sure," she manages the bravest smile she can muster and pulls away, aching with all her heart to go back and never leave his arms. Pulling on some random clothes (who cares if they match?), she whispers, "Let's get out of here now then."

.

Three hours later and they're done with telling everyone that he's leaving, done with bearing the news that he's going right into warfare. There isn't that many people to tell, if they're honest. Her Dad and Uncles Harry, George and Bill are already fighting there, Percy leading the mission to defend England. Some of the cousins are there as well – James, Albus, Dominique and Victoire are fighting on the ground, a job which isn't so dangerous anymore, since they seem to be retreating.

But Teddy'll be in the thick of it.

"I'll be back before you know it," he tells her as she packs a bag full of warm clothing for him. "Promise…and I'll write every day," he continues, watching her stuff socks after socks into the bag, enlarging it when the fifteen pairs don't fit comfortably in.

"I'll write to you every single day as well," she replies, forcing back the tears – she's cried enough in front of him; she has to stay strong for their final hour together. "Promise you'll come back in one piece?"

"I swear," comes his response as he pulls her into his arms and kisses her with every bit of passion he can muster. "It'll fly by – honest. I'm only there for twelve weeks then I'm coming back – one hundred percent, I checked."

"Good…but every minute without you will feel like a thousand," she confesses. "I'll try and track you down on the film thing that Uncle Percy set up with Grandad in the other room in the Ministry."

"Nice one – you'll be able to see my handsome face every day," he laughs and she has to snort – he can always make her laugh. "Now, look at that, my Rosie smiling. That's the face I'm going to remember."

.

She drives him to the station to catch the tube, wanting to cling onto every single minute left with him. everything has been packed into alarm proof bags, his broomstick disguised as a pencil in a pencil case – everything a returning to university student would need.

"Love you," she calls after him as he enters the station.

"Love you more," he responds, blowing her a thousand kisses as he disappears from sight, swallowed up by the wave of people entering and exiting the station.

~x~

The weeks go by and it _does_ seem as if no time has gone by whatsoever, since she forces herself to spend seventeen hours per day (even weekends) working. It helps her keep her mind off of him, stops her from worrying excessively, and if she ever _does_, she can go across the hall and watch him fly.

She's so proud of him, in a strange way. Every time she sees him flying away from a battle scene with another scared Muggle child safely rescued, it reminds her of part of the reason she fell in love with him.

He writes to her everyday and she responds, sending mundane details about her life, like how the flowers wilt after the seventeenth day or the moment when the tap got a bit stiff. He simply tells her how much he loves and misses her, that everything she sends is recorded in his mind, how he'll be home soon and then they can be happy.

The war seems to be easing down a little, but he's still needed, the Minister says, as he's their best flyer. Nearly every Quidditch player in the country has been called in (Quidditch season was cancelled) but nobody has rescued as many people as Teddy.

"It's like he was born to do this," Shacklebolt comments and she has to bite her tongue to stop herself saying anything.

_He_ wasn't_ born to do this; he was born to play Quidditch! There's a difference_.

~x~

Around three weeks before he's due home, she begins to feel sick (strange, since she hasn't been sick since she was a kid) and is soon throwing up everything she eats, everywhere she goes. In the back of her head, she knows what it is, what they forgot to use, but not until three different pregnancy tests confirm it does she know.

She's pregnant.

She wants to write to him to tell him, but she doesn't. He's only there for another couple of weeks and she doesn't want to distract him by making him think of home when he should be focused on rescuing the kids. So she holds onto the information, hoping to God that nobody figures it out before he comes home, so that she hasn't told anyone before him.

He never comes home.

Five days after she discovers she's having his baby and she's finally gone home after an eighteen hour day trying to get some negotiations done, the doorbell rings. Instantly, she knows it is bad news – when else does someone come round at three in the morning? - but about whom she doesn't know. Half her damned _family_ are out there, for Christ's sake!

But, in her heart, she knows.

Staggering downstairs, she opens the door to find Uncle Percy and the Minister for Magic himself on the doorstep, tears in her Uncle's eyes.

"Who is it?" she demands, not bothering to invite them in or be pleasant because she can see in their faces that someone is dead and be damned if she cares about offering them a cup of bloody tea.

"Rose, I'm so sorry-"

"Who _is_ it?"

"Teddy."

She can't accept that he's dead, that the father of her unborn baby is dead without even knowing she's pregnant. "No, no, you're wrong. It's someone else. It's _anyone_ but Teddy, oh god it _has_ to be," she mutters, tears streaming down her face as she struggles to imagine a life worth living without him.

"I'm sorry, honey, but it's him; we saw it," Percy whispers, pulling his niece into his arms. "Your Mum is coming over but we thought we'd tell you first, so you knew. I'm so sorry, Rose, but he's dead."

She shakes her head, unable to believe him, unable to accept that he's not amongst the living anymore – _he promised_!

But a niggling voice in the back of her head reminds her he only promised to come back in one piece…a promise yet to be known if fulfilled.

Her mother Apparates directly onto the front path, and runs up to them, pulling her daughter from Percy and crushing her in her arms. "Honey, it's ok, we're here for you," she murmurs into her daughter's ear, pulling her back from the door and into the house, leaving the men standing there. "We're going to help you through it, honestly."

"I'm pregnant," is the only thing Rose can say, the only thing that comes to mind. After all, there's no point keeping it a secret anymore, is there? No point keeping quiet since the only person who needed to know is dead. "I'm pregnant and he never knew, Mum! I was going to…to tell him when he came back but…but he's _not_ coming back!" she wails, letting rip entirely…she's pregnant and she's a widow…all at the age of twenty three.

~x~

His funeral is the week after, by which time the majority of her family have returned from Turkey, returned from the fight. So has he, in a way, but it's just his vessel of a body – not _really_ him.

Everyone knows she's pregnant now and it's so _hard_ to know that he never found out – she hopes she can imagine his reaction but since he's already been gone so long, she's already forgetting what he looks like. He'll be frozen forever in this style, however he looked as he died, something which she doubts will be blue hair and twinkling eyes.

Not to be disappointed, he has black hair and she can't see his eyes – of course she can't, because his eyes are closed and she's not about to go opening his eyelids; she's having enough bother getting close enough to him to say goodbye.

Everyone clears out of the church for her to say goodbye to her husband, the one who, like his parents, died for someone else. "So, Ted, you're back," she begins, tears streaming silently down her face. "You did keep your promise though – you're in one piece. I have something to tell you. I mean, I know I should have told you before but I had it all planned out when you would have come home to tell you then…but, anyway, I'm rambling. I need to tell you that I'm pregnant…and yes, _obviously_ it's yours, who else would be the father?"

She laughs slightly at this, shaking her head to try and dispel the tears so she can see his body for the final time. He looks so unlike _her_ Teddy that she instinctively wants to look away but she doesn't – she needs to remember his face, to memorise it, so that she doesn't have to rely on the photographs she has.

"Bye Teddy," she whispers, running her fingers down his face for a final time before pressing her lips to his cold, glassy forehead and walking out of the church.

~x~

She's not alone during the pregnancy, something which would have only made it harder to cope if she didn't have. She can't leave the house which has so many memories of him – stray blue hairs everywhere or his clothes in the wardrobe she's never going to throw away – but she never says his name and has hidden all the photos of him away. Nobody tries to press her to talk since she's already going through so much and anyway, she has the baby to remind her of him.

The pregnancy goes normally, apparently, and early September (the third), she gives birth to a baby boy who, unsurprisingly to her, has the gene to change his appearance. Metamorphosis, she thinks it's called, but she doesn't really care since the only thing she can see in the baby's face is his Father, all she can see is a miniature version of her Teddy.

Now they're all in her house and it's been three days since she gave birth and they're all wondering what she's going to call him. _Everyone_ is back from the war now, the one that apparently was partially won by Teddy (at least that's what the Minister said as he awarded her Teddy's Medal of Valour), and they're all waiting to find out what the newest generation of Weasleys (or rather, Lupins) is called.

She looks up from her baby and stands up, surprising her Mother since all she's done is sit there for three or so hours. In an almost comatose manner, she walks through the house and finds her wand (lying with Teddy's on the bedroom table) before Disapparating without telling anyone where she's going.

They touch down in the graveyard, mere metres from where Teddy lies with his parents and Granddad, and she can read his marble headstone from a good twenty five metres away. She _has_ to bring her baby here, to meet his father, and she gets an epiphany as she does so.

It's so _obvious_ – why didn't she contemplate this before? Every name that has ever run through her head, even before Teddy died, has absolutely no meaning to her…but _Teddy_ does…Ted, to be proper, but he can…no, she can't name her son that. It'd bring back too many memories.

But perhaps how Teddy was named – for his Grandad who had died in the war – she could name this little baby for Remus…she could reverse Teddy's names.

"Hey, Teddy," she whispers, placing one hand on the headstone as she looks between her husband and her son. "Want to meet your son, Remus Teddy Lupin? Here he is."

She places him lightly on top of the cool headstone, the change in environment not waking her son up, and they stand together as a family for one minute. But then she lifts Remus away and smiles, running her fingers along the top of the headstone.

She'll never forget Teddy, but she has her son to help her through it, help remind her why she is never to forget her Teddy.

_Ever_.

* * *

_Whoa…sad? I got the idea randomly on my way to town & I _had_ to write it – it's only taken me about an hour in total._

_Don't fav without reviewing please._

_Vicky xx_


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